Criterion Sunday 210: Nattvardsgästerna (Winter Light, 1963)

The second of Bergman’s loosely-defined faith trilogy, I do much prefer Winter Light to Through a Glass Darkly, though obviously they share a number of threads — the idea of God as a spider, a questioning attitude to the divine presence, many of the same actors and Sven Nykvist’s extraordinary camera. This film has a lugubrious pace, but also, at times, touches of what seem like humour (much the way I find humour in Bresson too: utterly po-faced, but yet somehow not without mischief). Its central character, a priest (Gunnar Björnstrand), is unable to reach God, feels himself a failure, and watches as his congregation dwindles. The film’s title in Swedish is “The Communicants” and there’s a sense in which each character in the film is trying to somehow commune with God. If the previous film posits Love as the connecting force, this seems far more tenuous here, though perhaps there’s something there, like an empathy which Björnstrand’s character so abjectly fails to achieve. One of Bergman’s better works, I think.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Ingmar Bergman | Cinematographer Sven Nykvist | Starring Gunnar Björnstrand, Ingrid Thulin, Max von Sydow, Gunnel Lindblom | Length 81 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Thursday 5 April 2018

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Criterion Sunday 209: Såsom i en spegel (Through a Glass Darkly, 1961)

I’m willing to concede that Bergman was a great filmmaker, and I have no doubt that if I came to this with the willingness to engage with it that Bergman comes to his filmmaking, then I’d probably connect with it more. It looks beautiful, to be sure, with lots of full-face close-ups, and that windswept Fårö scenery. It’s intense in its psychodrama, dealing as it does (and as is not unusual for the director) with faith, the connection with God, so tenuous and so alluring. The woman has mental health issues from which she’s recovering, and this much feels a little bit rote: beautiful women suffering for the love of God is something of a worn trope. But, as I say, were I to revisit this again, perhaps I would connect with it better, or perhaps if I came from a certain type of family, I’d appreciate the dynamics more.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Ingmar Bergman | Cinematographer Sven Nykvist | Starring Harriet Andersson, Gunnar Björnstrand, Max von Sydow, Lars Passgård | Length 91 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 1 April 2018

Criterion Sunday 207: Erogotoshitachi Yori Jinruigaku Nyumon (The Pornographers, 1966)

This Japanese film about a small-time filth merchant doesn’t actually feature any of what the title suggests (probably for the best) but is instead a sort of odd, madcap series of incidents that hangs together really strangely — although I admit I was a little drowsy when I watched it, which hardly helped me keep it all straight, though I don’t really think it’s interested in straightforward narrative storytelling. It has enough oddity to make it more of a satire, and it probably helps if you know the society to pick up on what’s being skewered.

Criterion Extras: Nothing but a trailer.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Shohei Imamura | Writers Imamura and Koji Numata | Cinematographer Shinsaku Himeda | Starring Shoichi Ozawa | Length 128 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 8 April 2018

Criterion Sunday 205: Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss (Veronika Voss, 1982)

One of Fassbinder’s final films (indeed, the last to be released in his lifetime), this is a dreamlike reverie of soft black-and-white, specifically an hommage to a presumed golden era of Hollywood (and Nazi-era) filmmaking, flashbacks to which are all starry-eyed lights and slinky fashion. The star of these films is the title character (Rosel Zech), who a decade after World War II is struggling to get work and struggling to keep her fragile sense of identity. She meets a sports reporter (Hilmar Thate) who doesn’t know who she is, and strikes up an affair, during which he discovers she’s being drugged by a rapacious doctor (Annemarie Düringer), and resolves to try and free her. These genre elements though are largely interwoven into a story that’s about the dangerous addiction not just to morphine but to fame itself, with a subtle through line of satire that is difficult to laugh at given the suffocating atmosphere of much of the film. It’s a more admirable piece than one I genuinely love, but thus is often the way with Fassbinder.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Rainer Werner Fassbinder | Writers Fassbinder, Pea Fröhlich and Peter Märthesheimer | Cinematographer Xaver Schwarzenberger | Starring Rosel Zech, Hilmar Thate, Cornelia Froboess, Annemarie Düringer | Length 104 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 25 March 2018 (and before that on VHS at the university library in Wellington, April 2000)

Criterion Sunday 202: Stazione termini (Terminal Station aka Indiscretion of an American Wife, 1953)

As a Criterion release, I’m somewhat underwhelmed by this film, even watching De Sica’s longer, original cut (as Terminal Station rather than the shorter version Indiscretion of an American Wife, recut by producer David O. Selznick). It takes the romantic setting of a train station as the locus for its story of two lovers pulled apart then together then apart, a little dance of passion that should be more… well, more like Brief Encounter I suppose. There’s a strange inertness to both Montgomery Clift’s Italian/American Giovanni and Jennifer Jones as the adulterous wife Mary, despite the passionate bond they seem to share. Still, there are some lovely shots and it does create an atmosphere for this forbidding, steamy, loud Italian location.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Vittorio De Sica | Writers Luigi Chiarini, Giorgio Prosperi and Cesare Zavattini | Cinematographer Aldo Graziati | Starring Montgomery Clift, Jennifer Jones, Richard Beymer | Length 89 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 11 March 2018

Criterion Sunday 201: Umberto D. (1952)

My sense of this neorealist classic is that as I get older so the film will get better, but it’s one of those portraits of old age as a sad time of abandonment, especially in the context of a country coming out of a divisive wartime experience. However, the skill of De Sica is in making what seems like a pretty depressing watch into something a little more observational, capturing a sort of poetry of the everyday, as Umberto trudges around Rome in search of a little money to pay his rent, or looking out for his dog Flike. His own suicidal ideation is handled with sensitivity, and those occasions when he’s pulled back from something tragic by the slender bonds of love that remain make it the more powerful as a film.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Vittorio De Sica | Writer Cesare Zavattini | Cinematographer G. R. Aldo | Starring Carlo Battisti | Length 89 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 4 March 2018

Criterion Sunday 200: The Honeymoon Killers (1970)

This seems an intriguing film in many ways, because it’s taking that evergreen trope of lurid Americana — the serial killers — and stripping it of any of the glamour usually afforded them in cinema. It doesn’t make either particularly attractive and it doesn’t beautify their crimes, as the film grimly moves its story on from initial meeting to murderousness in slow stages of development, she no less instrumental than him in driving them to their end. Its black-and-white graininess and low-budget quality effectively recalls Sam Fuller’s 50s pseudo-exploitation flicks, those true-crime ripped-from-the-headlines type of films which could run as a B-movie in a grindhouse.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Leonard Kastle | Cinematographer Oliver Wood | Starring Shirley Stoler, Tony Lo Bianco | Length 107 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 25 February 2018

Criterion Sunday 197: Nuit et brouillard (Night and Fog, 1956)

It may only be half an hour but it puts across everything it needs to, about the scale and terror of some (very recent, contemporary) history, given it was made just 10 years after the end of the war. It deals a bit with the way that sites of abject misery so quickly return to verdant life: I remember visiting Auschwitz and Birkenau and they seemed like such peaceful places, as they do at times in this film, but then there’s the archival footage, and the vastness of it is difficult to comprehend. I’m not really sure this film manages to make it comprehensible because in so many ways it’s not, but it hints at these appalling events and it’s important for people to be reminded.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Alain Resnais | Writer Jean Cayrol | Cinematographers Ghislain Cloquet and Sacha Vierny | Length 32 minutes || Seen at university library (VHS), Wellington, January 1998 (and most recently on DVD at a friend’s home, London, Sunday 18 February 2018)

Criterion Sunday 196: Hiroshima mon amour (1959)

When people think about pretentious French movies, I think this is somehow the Platonic ideal they’re thinking about, an ur-text of reflective voiceover, alienated detachment and pain, the possibility (and impossibility perhaps) of cultural rapprochement following imperialist aggression, opening as it does with the conjoining of bodies under the ash of nuclear fallout. It is, as has been far more eloquently expressed by commentators far more engaged than I am, about the complex interplay of memory and desire, but it is also aggressively modernist in its construction and the way it engages with the viewer, so unlikely to be for all tastes. I first watched it 20 years ago, and I’ll watch it in another 20, and I can only hope to catch up with what it’s doing by then.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Alain Resnais | Writer Marguerite Duras | Cinematographers Michio Takahashi and Sacha Vierny | Starring Emmanuelle Riva, Eiji Okada | Length 90 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 11 February 2018 (and earlier, on VHS in Wellington, December 1997)

Criterion Sunday 195: I fidanzati (aka The Fiances, 1962)

Presented side-by-side in the Criterion Collection with Olmi’s previous film Il posto, this has a quite different feeling to it, even if it has all the same beauty to its monochrome cinematography. Instead of moving to the big city of Milan, this film has a hero who leaves that city for the remoteness of Sicily. It’s about two people who are already together as of the film’s start, but who seem to be unhappy and drifting apart. It’s a film that doesn’t constantly look forward to a (possibly bleak) future, but continually seems to look back to a (apparently happier) past from that bleak present. This shifts some of the emotional weight of the film a little, but love — while uncertain in both films — here instead has a haunting, spectral presence.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Ermanno Olmi | Cinematographer Lamberto Caimi | Starring Carlo Cabrini, Anna Canzi | Length 77 minutes || Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 4 February 2018